In which we plan the escape.

For the firstborn Darter.

Marie put her face in her hand. She grumbled an unintelligible string of annoyance and looked back at Hunter. “So,” she sighed, “what now? I mean you have a kid on your back and I’m not as good a shot as you, judging by the bloodbath in that torture room.” Hunter tapped his foot on the cement floor, strategizing mentally.

“Alright,” he whispered at last, “okay, so the first thing you need to do is carry little miss gemini here, capiche?”

“Me? Well, okay, if you say so, kid.”

“Great. Next I need to create a diversion. I’m going to keep going down the hall and make ’em go there, and you hide in there with her.” He nodded at a near cart of clothes in the guarded room.

“How the cuss do I get in there?” Marie loud-whispered.

“You be quiet? Duh!”

“But – okay, fine. But if both of me die than you will have to face my brother.”

“Whatever. Anyway, after I distract them -“

“And how will you do that?” Marie cut him off.

“I have an idea, just listen, please. Anyway, once I effectively distract them, you’ll get out of the cart, leave the girl, go down the hall and kill ’em all. Sound like a plan?”

Marie looked dumbstruck. “Just, like, – whatever, fine. I won’t be put in jail for this, right? Cuz I am NOT going to jail.”

“Jail? Wow, you really have missed a lot, haven’t ya? No, you won’t be put in jail. Anyhow, after we hide the bodies, we make a run for it and the Coleocopter picks us up.” He took one last look at the exit. “Okay, get in there. I’ll go down the hall.” He gave her a hasty salute and disappeared behind a far off corner. Marie was left behind.

“Well, it could be worse.” Thought Marie. “I could have to sneak into a room full of psychotic goons who want to torture me, depending on a kid to get out. Oh wait, I am!” Marie took a deep breath, and quickly poked her head into the doorway. The room was well-lit and filled with guards. Guards by the heavy iron doors, guards by the huge black marble pillars, and guards gambling at a green fold-up table in a corner. As Marie strategized the short path to the laundry cart, the voice of reason resonated on her train of thought, derailing it. Would she make it? Probably not. Would the guards kill her? Most possible outcome. And, most pressing of all, could she trust this strange, determined boy? Marie gagged Reason before it could answer. I can do this, she thought, my life depends on it. And with this final thought, Marie entered the room.